A Scandal in Belgravia in Quicktime
by SunnyRea
Summary: A crack telling of episode 1 of seaosn 2! Like my stories of the last season I have struck again to bring humor and crack to our lovely episodes!  check my profile to see last season's quicktimes


Intro: Looooooooooooook, its last season. In case you forgot.

Fandom: We haven't. Have you seen tumblr?

Jim: Remember all my old lines!

Sherlock: Um, still got my gun on your bomb vest.

Jim & Sherlock: *STARE DOWN*

-BEE GEES BREAK WITH AMUSING IRONIC MUSIC-

John & Sherlock: Da fuck?

Jim: Don't be jealous of my ringtone.

Fandom: We are.

Jim: Moooooooom!

Irene: Hi honey. 3

Jim: Not my usual sex game…

Irene: Look, you can't kill them now, we need a series 2.

Jim: Aw, but I like killing.

Irene: I can make Sherlock love me, get him all hot and bothered then leave him high and dry.

Jim: I wanted to do that.

Irene: Give me episode 1, you can have episode 3, and we'll give John episode 2 just to be nice.

Jim: Deal.

Irene: Throw in shoes?

Jim: Don't be cracky.

Sherlock: Not to interrupt…

Jim: Gotta go, snapping time.

John: So…

Sherlock: I'm sure that phone call couldn't have been related to us.

-OMG NEW CREDITS!-

John: Look how much faster I type!

Sherlock: What are you typing? Are you blogging? Is this about me? I know it's about me! PAY ATTENTION TO ME!

John: Look at all the cases we have and look at all the book references!

Lots of random people: TAKE OUR CASE!

Sherlock: No. I'm rude.

Kids & Ash guy: We're relevant to the plot!

Sherlock: HA! Right. You don't even have name credits!

John: MY BLOG IS SO POPULAR. I'M INTERNET FAMOUS!

Sherlock: My blog is better.

John: No one reads your blog.

Sherlock: DO TOO!

John: I'm tumblr. You're Myspace.

Lestrade: OH SNAP!

Sherlock: *BITCH FACE*

Lestrade: Well then, what about this German guy in the boot?

Sherlock: Er…

John: HA! FAILOCK!

Sherlock: Shut up! I have a blow torch!

John: …

Sherlock: And cue iconic hat shot.

Fans: AAAAAAAHHHHHH!

Book Fans: Canonically he never wears that. *snap snap snap*

Random dude: I can't fix my car.

Soon to be dead dude: *stands*

Random dude's car: PAY ATTENTION TO ME!

Random dude: What's your issue!

Now dead dude: *is dead*

Lestrade: Yo.

Copper: um…

Lestrade: Don't punch Sherlock; John'll do it later.

Copper: Do I even get a name?

John: Hi.

Sherlock: I'M WEARING A SHEET. YES, WE ARE GOING TO NEW HEIGHTS OF CRAZY THIS SEASON!

John: It's really nice and green here! You'll be sad you didn't come. We could have had a holiday. A big gay holiday.

Sherlock: We'll do that in Hounds.

Doorbell: Ding ding

Sherlock: I HATE DOORBELLS!

John: So, dead guy.

Sherlock: PSH! EASY!

Copper: Wait, what?

Suit: Mr. Holmes.

Sherlock: Da fuck?

Suit: Kidnapping time. Get dressed.

Sherlock: Hell no. I only get dressed for John… wait.

Ginger Copper: I'm adorable!

John: Shouldn't you be telling me about the helicopter?

Ginger Copper: I'm still adorable!

-Overhead shot of the palace bitches!-

John: Um… sheet.

Sherlock: It's mostly clean.

John: So, you're naked under that sheet?

Sherlock: Yep.

John: Naked?

Sherlock: No doubt.

John: Naked at Buckingham palace?

Sherlock: It's how I roll.

John: Approved.

Mycroft: Sherlock! You're embarrassing me!

Sherlock: QUEEN!

Mycroft: I am rubber, you are glue!

Harry: Hello, I am delightfully upper class and snooty.

Mycroft: We should get married!

Harry: PS – the royal family likes your blog, Dr. Watson.

John: WINNER!

Sherlock: So, wtf, client?

Harry: An important one.

Sherlock: LEAVING!

Mycroft: *troll*

Sheet: I am done covering this boney batch.

Fans: AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Sherlock: Stop ruining my exit!

Mycroft: Stop being prettier than me!

John: Stop holding up the sheet.

Sherlock: What?

Mycroft: What?

John: You heard.

Harry: Okay…

-And now we put on clothes, crushing the hearts of all Cumberbitches-

Mycroft: So, here's our 'cover story.'

Harry: You get a lady villain this time.

Mycroft: And she's a dominatrix.

Sherlock: Interested.

John: *jealous*

Irene: Hello Sweetie 3

Jim!text: Sending hottie shots.

Irene: Got my masturbation material for tonight!

Sherlock: So?

Harry: Photos.

Sherlock: Should I pose?

Harry: Lesbian ones.

Sherlock: Dull.

John: **NOT** dull.

Mycroft: No ransom though.

Sherlock: Power play? I read a fic like that.

Harry: So?

Sherlock: Stealing an ash tray.

Harry: Have my lighter.

Irene: Time to play dress up!

Kate: I'll get the video camera.

Sherlock: Time to play dress up!

John: I'll get the riding crop.

Irene: Ironic!

Kate: Can we have a real lesbian sex scene before the boys get here?

Irene: Well, I am wearing my battle dress.

Kate: Score.

Sherlock: Punch me in the face.

John: Okay.

Sherlock: No, wait! You're supposed to have reservations about hurting me!

John: Nope!

-PUNCH – PUNCH – OMG LOOK AT US FIGHT. JOHN = BAMF-

John: When John Watson has a bad day people die!

Sherlock: No fandom memes.

-Ding ding-

Katie: Hello obvious fake?

Sherlock: *wibble* John was mean!

Kate: Are you dressed like a vicar?

Sherlock: Look how cute and sad I am!

Kate: The price of admission is one bang for the redhead.

Fans: SO MANY GINGERS!

Sherlock: Ha ha! Inside using my oh-so-clever disguise.

Irene: Hello sexy!

Sherlock: NAKED! DOES NOT COMPUTE.

Everyone in the fandom: …I have a girl crush.

Irene: Let's skip the plot and have sex on my couch, holy man.

John: …

Irene: And now it's a threesome.

Sherlock: My computer brain is stalling… should not have downloaded Vista.

John: ….

Irene: Blinded by my perfection?

Sherlock: Stick to plan, stick to plan…

Irene: Aw, you're got a wound. Sorry you had to punch your boyfriend, John.

John: PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!

Irene: I'll wear the coat.

Cosplayers: JEALOUS!

Irene: So, what's up with dead field guy?

John: Buzah?

Irene: You're not getting my photos, so impress me instead.

Sherlock: Speech is difficult.

John: Sooooooo, you busy later?

Sherlock: GUARD THE DOOR, JOHN!

John: …cock block.

Sherlock: And cool transition to the field.

Irene: My couch is coming along.

Sherlock: Car back fire, standing sport guy, soon to be dead because…. Class?

Irene: Er…

Sherlock: Ooo, I'll have to mark you down for that.

John: See? We are using the lighter!

Irene: FIRE ALARM! MY ELECTRONIC BABY!

Sherlock: HA! Fooled you! Wall safe, hello.

Irene: …fuck.

Sherlock: Let me analyze this key pad.

Irene: If you were straight you'd know the code.

CIA: I WILL FUCKING SHOOT YOU.

John: You'll get yours later.

CIA: EVERYBODY ON THE FLOOR.

Sherlock: Please tell me this isn't a sex game?

CIA: Open safe, please!

Sherlock: Don't know the code.

CIA: Not my problem!

Sherlock: Bitch, plz.

CIA: Shoot Dr. Watson.

Sherlock: JK, NO, I'LL OPEN IT!

CIA: I like threatening people.

Irene: I'm going to discretely look down at my chest. Not a signal or clue. Nope.

Sherlock: I hope my mental measuring tape works…

John: Why is it always me? Always 'let's shoot John' or 'let's attach him to a bomb.'

Irene: Whiner.

Sherlock: VATICAN CAMEOS!

-EPIC SLOW-MO FIGHT SCEQUENCE-

Fans: DAT ASS.

John: …I didn't get to do anything.

CIA: Owie.

Sherlock: Got your phone.

Irene: I will cut you.

John: Field trip upstairs?

Kate: I'll just lie here, shall I?

Sherlock: Do de do, I totally win.

Irene: DRUGGED YOU!

Sherlock: Shit, forced relapse!

Irene: SLAP A BITCH!

Sherlock: Holy fuck, it's blurry!

Irene: Give me my fucking phone!

Sherlock: No! I called claimsies!

Irene: RIDING CROP BEAT DOWN.

Fans: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!

Sherlock: Ow, okay, ouch, have it!

Irene: Why thank you, honey. I knew you liked it rough.

Sherlock: …riding crop fantasies cementing.

John: Omg, what did you do to my boyfriend and did you take photos!

Irene: Time for BAMF escape out of the window on a rope.

John: …legs.

Irene: PS – Sherlock totally checked out my smoking hot bod.

Sherlock: *gurgle*

John: It's okay, honey, this'll make a great hurt/comfort fic.

Irene: OMG! I figured out your field guy case!

Sherlock: These transitions are making me nauseous…

Irene: BOOMERANG! Damn, your mind is sexy!

Sherlock: Can't… sentence… properly.

Firefly Fans: I GET THAT!

Irene: Enjoy your coat 3

-Magic, we're home-

Sherlock: JOOOOOOOHN!

John: Y'ello?

Sherlock: WOMAN, WOMAN, WTF, WOMAN!

John: Uh… nope, but Lestrade filmed you on his phone. Up on facebook now.

Sherlock: I am impersonating a drunk giraffe.

Doctor Who Fans: I GET THAT!

John: Let me just man handle you to bed.

Irene!text: _Ahh, baby, right there!_

Sherlock: Um… I should probably change that sound…

-221B Baker Street, now with egg cups-

Sherlock: Whatevs! It's totally fine. I lost the phone on purpose. Toooootally fine.

Mycroft: What. The. Fuck.

Sherlock: It's totally fine!

John: Cept that Sherlock has a crush on her and I'm jealous…

Mrs. Hudson: You're a bad big brother.

Mycroft: Shut up, old lady!

Sherlock & John: WHAT YOU SAY!

Mycroft: Er… JK.

Irene!text: _Ahh, baby, right there!_

Everyone: *stare*

Sherlock: SO! Government secrets on her phone?

Mycroft: Maybe.

Sherlock: Totally.

Mycroft: James Bond reference!

-Violin transition-

Sherlock: Yes, we are actually having a Christmas party!

Lestrade: Why did I even come to this? Don't I have real friends?

John: Look! New girlfriend.

Sherlock: You mean new beard.

Jeanette: I was under appreciated in _The Hour_ too.

Molly: HI, HI, HI!

Sherlock: Meh.

Molly: SEXY DRESS.

Lestrade: Jaw, meet floor.

Sherlock: John's blog is so much more interesting.

John: Let me lean over you in my Christmas sweater.

Sherlock: Can I unwrap my present?

John: Hee hee, deer stalker.

Molly: I love chit chat.

Sherlock: And you love being over dressed, excessively hair styled, over large earrings, and fancy wrapped present for your Mr. Right.

John: This is going to hurt…

Sherlock: I'm sure this well wrapped present is… totally for me…

Molly: I'll just go kill myself, okay?

Everyone: Awkward.

Sherlock: …sorry, Molly.

John: ALL MY SHOCK AND AMAZEMENT.

Irene!Text: _Ahh, baby, right there!_

Everyone: Hold up!

Sherlock: …

Irene!text: Left you a present. Now I shall die. *dramatic hand to forehead* FAREWELL!

Sherlock: …it's her camera phone. *sniff*

John: *CREEPIN*

-WE LOVE BARTS-

Fake!Irene: *soooooooooo dead for real*

Mycroft: I was hoping to go to the morgue on Christmas!

Sherlock: I am having a complex internal reaction to this event.

Molly: Dislike.

Mycroft: Cigarette?

Sherlock: I'll take ten.

Mycroft: And ready for the brothers money shot.

Film Majors: LIKE.

Sherlock: Emotions suck, right?

Mycroft: Right.

Sherlock: Cool… *sniffle*

John: Search for drugs is result negative.

Mycroft: Cancel your girlfriend plans.

John: Shit.

Jeanette: Just get gay married already!

Sherlock: SAD VIOLIN MUSIC!

John: Um.

Sherlock: Your blog counter is stuck.

John: And?

Sherlock: IDEA.

Phone: 1895? Uh, nooo.

Book Fans: AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!

Random Girl: Hi.

John: Hiiiiiii.

Random Girl: Get in the car.

John: Oh.

-Dun dun dun abandoned something industrial like building dun dun daaaaaah-

John: Mycroft, how do you know so many obscure creepy locations?

Irene: Hi. Need my phone back.

John: _Displeased._

Irene: Oh come on, of course I can fake die.

John: Well, you best better make my boyfriend happy again or I'll go army John on you.

Irene: Remind me to get you an engagement present.

John: JK, _not gay._

Irene: And I don't have lots of sex with women.

John: Oh, mental image.

Irene: Texted him.

John: ….ps - he's still MY boyfriend.

Irene!text: _Ahh, baby, right there!_

John & Irene: Oh shit, twist!

Sherlock: ALL THE FEELINGS! I float on air like magic…

221B Baker Street's Door: *sniffle* Ow.

Sherlock: Analyzing.

Mrs. Hudson: DAMSEL IN DISTRESS!

Sherlock: OH. NO. YOU. **DIDN'T**

CIA: Yo! Give me phone.

Mrs. Hudson: *whimper whimper whimper*

Sherlock: Okay, sure, check if I'm armed.

CIA: Sounds legit.

Sherlock: FUCK YOU, HEAD BUTT.

Mrs. Hudson: Why are we all getting punched this episode?

Sherlock: It's okay surrogate mom, I'm going to seriously injure him!

John: Da fuck?

Sherlock: Time to cause some pain.

John & Mrs. Hudson: Witnesses leaving!

CIA: This feels like karma…

Sherlock: American bitch, meet window.

Window: Meet pavement.

Lestrade: Should I charge you or something?

Sherlock: Naw.

John: Poor Mrs. Hudson!

Mrs. Hudson: Stop leaving the phone around it is worth £17,300, you idiot.

Sherlock: 3

Mrs. Hudson: **HBIC.**

John: So… Irene…

Sherlock: *whistles*

-And now we're at Barts again!-

Sherlock: Scanning your phone!

Molly: Why the hell do I like you?

Sherlock: This is one crazy phone, bombs included!

Molly: So… your girlfriend's phone?

Sherlock: You think I'd x-ray my girlfriend's phone?

Molly: Without a doubt.

Sherlock: IDEA FOR PASSCODE.

Phone: 221B? PULEZ!

Molly: HA! I mean…

-Back at Baker Street… time passes?-

Sherlock: *SNIFF* I smell sexy woman.

John: …I'm a man.

Sherlock: And don't I know it.

Irene: *sleeps*

Sherlock & John: So?

Irene: People are, like, trying to kill me and stuff.

Sherlock & John: Uh huh.

Irene: Need my phone.

John: Um, it's so totally not here.

Sherlock: It's in my pocket.

John: God, you're whipped.

Irene: Gimmie.

Sherlock: Passcode?

Irene: Nope.

Sherlock: Is it 1234?

Irene: Um… passcode fail.

Sherlock: HA! FOOLED YOU!

Phone: Uh, no.

Sherlock: er…

Irene: FOOLED _YOU!_

John: Baby name, Hamish.

Sherlock: What kind of middle name is Hamish?

John: What kind of first name is Sherlock?

Irene: At least it's not Benedict.

Sherlock: Who would ever be named Benedict?

Fans: *squeal*

Irene: Here, decipher this e-mail.

Sherlock: I LOVE PUZZLES!

-Slow-mo solve the code scene, and by 'scene' we mean 8 seconds-

Sherlock: It's a plane, Heathrow, tomorrow night, to Baltimore – number pairs, seat numbers, no number 13, obviously British and I am still a BAMF.

John: *swoon*

Irene: Let's fuck, right now in front of John.

Sherlock: Make that 'with John' and you've got a deal!

John: Should… be… objecting… um, Bond reference?

Sherlock: Bond reference? My spidey senses.

Irene: *discretely texting* I am so good.

Jim: oooooo! I expect video!

Irene: Already on facebook.

Jim!text: Any seats left on your plane, Mr. Holmes?

Mycroft: Fuck my life.

-ooooo violin and mood lighting-

Sherlock: Historical reference!

Irene: *purrr*

Sherlock: …um… John?

Irene: Just me, cheekbones.

Sherlock: …

Irene: Have you ever had anyone?

Sherlock: Had anyone what?

Irene: Sex.

Sherlock: Missionary? Doggie Style? 69? In a bed? Against a wall? Shower? With handcuffs? In the kitchen? Anal? Oral? Blind folded? Dressed up? Top? Bottom? Threesome?

Irene: …any.

Sherlock: Then no.

Irene: Let's have dinner.

Sherlock: No.

Irene: You can't say no, we have to flirt and get all close.

Sherlock: No means no.

Irene: I have a sexy brain.

Sherlock: nnnggghhh.

Mrs. Hudson: COCK BLOCK!

Suit: Yo.

Irene: *discreetly flee*

Sherlock: Can we get a take away on the way?

-Plane full of dead people in creepy lighting-

Sherlock: Um.

Mycroft: YOU FUCKED UP EVERYTHING!

Sherlock: LOL not!

Irene: *ahem*

Sherlock: Oh.

Irene: I have so many secrets this phone has a terabyte of memory.

Computer Geeks: ooooooooo!

Mycroft: Stop being so classy, bitch.

-There is a lot of mood lighting in these last scenes-

Irene: **I WIN.**

Mycroft: *woe*

Sherlock: *grump*

Irene: Here is my long list of demands.

Mycroft: …hover craft?

Irene: Don't question.

Sherlock: *GRUMP*

Irene: Jim says hi.

Mycroft: I know.

Sherlock: OMG. HE DIDN'T TEXT ME!

Irene: And you've got nicknames – the iceman and the virgin.

Sherlock: Which is which?

Mycroft: I hate you both.

Sherlock: JK, WAIT. I KNOW YOUR PASSWORD!

Irene: Psh, whatever.

Sherlock: You have the hots for me.

Irene: Not even; I'm totally dating Kate.

(Kate: IT'S CANON, YOU CAN'T TELL ME NO!)

Sherlock: And I'm dating John, point?

(John: So canon it hurts.)

Irene: Well, what then, pretty boy?

Sherlock: Pulse.

Irene: Fuck. Science.

Phone: I AM SHER-LOCKED.

Fans: OMG, ME TOO!

Irene: Do you expect me to talk?

Sherlock: No, Mr. Bond, I expect you to die!

Mycroft: *hums Goldfinger*

-ooo scene change to umbrella-

John: Um.

Mycroft: I'm allowed to smoke, I'm the older one.

John: So, Irene?

Mycroft: Witness protection.

John: Really?

Mycroft: No.

John: Fuck.

Mycroft: But we're going to lie to Sherlock to protect his fragile barely made heart.

John: Deal.

Mycroft: PS – Piratelock.

Fans: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!

Sherlock: Doin' my experiments.

John: So, about Irene…

Sherlock: Oh, really? What? Hmm? Feigning interest.

John: Uh… she's, um… safe?

Sherlock: I totally believe you.

-FLASHBACK-

Irene: Bye bye text.

Irene!text: _Ahh, baby right there_

Sherlock: Feel the power of my sword!

Irene: I knew hitting him with the riding crop would pay off later.

-Present-

Sherlock: FIN.


End file.
